


thicker than blood

by racooninnit



Series: sweet little honey boy [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blood, Confusion, Except it's not actually blood because it's honey, Honey, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Manipulation, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Overuse of italics, Tommy is Not Having a Good Time, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28877754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/racooninnit/pseuds/racooninnit
Summary: this is a really weird idea so i definitely need to explain some stuff. i've been listening to the song sweet tooth by cavetown, and i really like the line "sweet tooth for you, my honeydew," which apparently grew into some weird fucking fixation on honey?? and because in my mind sweet tooth is a song that fits tommy (don't ask why, i have no reason) this happened.there's no explanation given for a lot of the stuff in here, and i don't know if there'll ever be one. it's just sort of am idea that i built a situation for without thinking too much. i may write for the whole honey idea more, but i don't know if I'll expand on the plot of this specific fic. also this is a little bit all over the place, i wrote a lot of this when i was pretty tired so it might not all be coherent.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: sweet little honey boy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120673
Comments: 4
Kudos: 143





	thicker than blood

tommy usually hates small spaces. they scare him, make him feel like he’s going to get crushed alive. make him feel claustrophobic.

but right now, right now the small is comforting. the scrape of hard cobblestone against his skin, digging into soft flesh. it gives him something to focus on. he doesn’t have to pay attention to the explosions outside his tent or the arrow lodged deep into his thigh.

his mind feels slow and thick, like honey, golden and warm. it’s a nice feeling, like when he was a little kid and one of his brothers gave him a compliment. or when he listens to his discs on the bench with tubbo. 

he embraces the feeling fully. melts into the honey as if it’s the last sweet thing he’ll ever taste. he isn’t too aware of anything happening around him. he knows people are fighting, he hears muffled shouts and explosions, but it doesn’t concern him.

he doesn’t even remember how he got here. the last thing he remembers is tnt going off and and his vision going white. he thinks there may have been a person at some point or another, he remembers someone shouting to him as the tnt went off, but he can’t be too sure.

slowly, tommy brings a careful hand to the wound on his thigh. most of the arrow is broken off, save for a couple inches of the stick. the break is jagged, clearly done in a rush, and he can’t recall doing it himself.

whoever put him in here must have broken it, probably because it’s too small for the full arrow to fit. if the stick weren’t snapped it would drive the arrow further into tommy’s leg. and the arrowhead is already pretty far in as is.

when tommy pulls his hand away he notices there isn’t blood on it. he can’t see that well, but he knows what blood looks like well enough to know that this _isn’t it_. it’s too thick, and it’s distinctly sticky in a way that tommy can’t quite place.

if that isn’t his blood, then what in the _fuck_ is seeping from the wound? tommy decides the best course of action is to taste it.

and to his surprise, it’s _honey_.

_what?_

why is he bleeding _honey?_ is there something wrong with him?

thinking about it makes his head spin. he’s bleeding honey? was it something with the arrow? why is there so much of it? does it have something to do with the cobblestone encasing him?

tommy presses his forehead against the cobblestone, the familiar pressure removing his mind from his questions. he doesn’t want to think about it, it’s confusing and he’s scared, and there’s still muffled screaming outside. everything is just _too much_ right now, 

his hands find their way back to the arrow, and he feels the honey spread onto his hands. it’s an uncomfortable feeling, and he rubs his hands against the walls to try and get it off. he only succeeds in scraping his palms, resulting in more honey dripping down his hands.

the smell is overwhelming him, it’s all there is in the box, and he wants so badly to break a block so he can get some _air_. but he doesn’t have a pickaxe in his inventory, so all he can do is sit and wait. 

his thigh hurts. his legs are quickly falling asleep and it’s uncomfortable to be cramped up in such a small space. he really wishes he had a pickaxe on him.

time passes, he doesn’t know how long. the honey has slowed it’s drip from his injury, but there’s a small puddle that’s formed on the cobblestone beneath him. he’s given up on trying to get out, anything he does is futile at this point.

he’s pretty out of it as well. be it from the stench of the honey, or trying to block out the muffled noises he keeps hearing, or pure boredom, he’s been feeling kind of floaty for a while now.

so he’s certainly surprised when the cobble above his head suddenly breaks, and light invades the small space he’s been trapped in for the past couple of hours. 

his first instinct is to cover his eyes with his hands. despite it being what he thinks is probably night, the moonlight is bright, and he’s been in his little prison for a while. he hears mumbling, and then mining, and in a few minutes, the cobblestone that was surrounding him is finally gone. he shivers as his skin is exposed to the cold air. he doesn’t remove his hands from his face.

there’s more talking, he can’t figure out who it is, and then warm hands are grabbing his wrists. his hands are pried away from his face, and in response, he squeezes his eyes shut. he hears a sigh of annoyance.

“come on tommy, look at me?”

he shakes his head.

“s’ too bright. can’t”

a second sigh.

“it’s dark out, it won’t take long for your eyes to adjust.” whoever this is sounds irritated. tommy realizes that angering them probably isn’t a good idea.

hesitantly, he opens his eyes, fighting off the urge to bring his hands back to his face. he’s met with a porcelain mask, and immediately his chest seizes with panic.

“dream?” his voice sounds so small, even to his own ears.

“hi tommy.”

“what’s going on? why are you-”

dream shushes him.

“it doesn’t matter, tommy. now you’re gonna come with me, alright?” 

tommy’s head is spinning. first he gets thrown into this cobblestone prison in the middle of doomsday, then he starts bleeding honey, and now dream’s trying to take him somewhere?

“i’m not going anywhere with you!” dream laughs. he _laughs_.

“actually tommy, i think you will. it’d be a shame if something happened to one of your little friends, right?”

his blood ( _or is it honey now?_ ) runs cold. no way did dream just threaten his friends.

“how do you think tubbo would feel, knowing he’s getting killed because you’re stubborn?”

tommy wants to scream. he doesn’t want to go anywhere with dream, the idea of falling into his clutches _again_ makes him sick to his stomach. he’s already been through abuse by dream’s hands in his exile and it wasn’t pretty. but at the same time, dooming tubbo to a death at the hands of him sounds infinitely worse.

“fine- i’ll go with, but you better leave him alone.” tommy tries his hardest to sound firm and assured, but he’s really just a whiny kid. dream chuckles.

“you made the right choice.”

finally, _finally_ , he takes his hands off tommy’s wrists, and the boy draws his hands back to his chest. his relief is short lived though, because dream brings his arms under tommy and hauls him up. he moves one of his hands to the boy’s back to help stabilize him, and tommy can’t bring himself to protest it. he’s tired, at this point he really wants to go to sleep.

“that’s it, there we go.” the hand that was on his back slowly moves to the arrow. “this might hurt.”

before tommy can ask what he means dream rips the arrow out of his thigh. tommy screams.

“hey, hey, you’re okay, tommy. it’s done. the arrow is out. i can get you some potions as soon as soon as we’re home.”

dream’s words don’t even register with him, all tommy knows is the searing pain in his leg and the warm honey slowly dripping off of him.

the air is too sweet. tommy’s tired. he wants to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this was interesting cause i kinda really like the bleeding-honey thing
> 
> twt is @ stiniky for more of my bullshit


End file.
